Chills up my spine…

When I lost my mom, it was Earth shattering. I was 12, and she was the only thing I really knew. I’m sure my life will know other great losses, but for now, she is the only love I’ve lost.

I don’t know if losing her quickly was a blessing. Some people have told me that we were lucky she didn’t suffer for a long time from illness. But I beg to differ. I think she suffered so greatly and profoundly in her last moments of life that we can not even imagine the pain. And there is so much about that that burdens me. That I never told her goodbye. That I let her leave mad that night. That we were even there at all.

My mom would be alive right now if it weren’t for me. And that’s a very heavy burden to carry. Not enough years can go by to numb that. She pulled over on the side of the road on the way to her death and said to me, “Stephanie, we don’t really have the money for this vacation. Let’s turn around. Let’s go home and spend time together. We could go see a movie instead. We can have fun at home.” And I threw a fit, and I guilted her, and she got back on the road. The road ended a few days later for her. And I live with that. She pulled over on the side of the road and asked me if we could turn around!

I know, I know. I was a kid. Kids are selfish and bratty and YOU CAN’T BLAME YOURSELF, Steph. But I do.

There were 3 other kids, Helen and James’ kids, that were involved in this great loss. They lost their mom too. I grew up with them. I lost contact with them after the murder trials. Their father was found innocent, somehow, and they went to finish their childhoods with him.

I recently found one of the kids, Darrell, on Facebook. I sent him a friend request. He was 7 when our moms died together, so I figured he probably didn’t remember me. And he barely did, but friended me anyways. And we’ve had friendly conversations on Facebook. I am grateful for that. I’m not sure why. None of it matters anymore. But I guess I am finding some forgiveness for James Gibbs through this little connection to his son. Helen’s son…

I really don’t have any good memories of James. And in my heart of hearts of hearts, I know he killed my mother and his wife. I know. I don’t need to prove it to anyone. There is no shadow of a doubt. I just know. Not because I need someone to blame. I just know. I knew that man for a lot of years and saw things the other kids were protected from (in my life before mom died and in the courtrooms after her loss)

I was going through some of Darrell’s photos on Facebook. I stumbled across some pictures of James… playing with his grandchildren… living life. I felt bitter. All of these years I imagined a cancer growing inside him, loneliness, a sad shell of a man living with his secret. I never imagined him laughing at family gatherings, dancing with his granddaughter, looking healthy and happy. There’s no cancer in these pictures. No sorrow. No loneliness. No regret. He looks well. And that makes my stomach curl, just a little bit.

The DNA, the witnesses, the evidence… it all added up to a perfect conviction. But he slipped through the cracks. And a copycat killer followed in his footsteps and committed the very same crime, in the very same way, in the very same spot because it was just. that. ironic. that he walked free. He danced free…

He should be rotting in a jail cell. Better yet, he shouldn’t be here at all. Living a lie. Dancing with an admiring granddaughter who will never know the secrets of that night.

You believe in karma? Well don’t. Karma is a cynical, sick joke that helps people like me feel better about being a victim.

Finally, in general I am alright about my mothers loss. It was unfortunate. I will always miss her. But I’m living a beautiful life. Today was just a reminder of something I keep tucked away safely.  And it just made me a little bit sad. I just needed to get it off my chest…

Posted by: stepherz | 02-09-2010 | 04:02 AM
Posted in: General | Susan